


Five Circles of Hell

by bylbit



Category: VIXX
Genre: 18th Century, Arson, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Fallen Angels, Heaven & Hell, M/M, Torture, inspired by Dante's Inferno's Nine Circles of Hell, neo and rabin if you squint, the tags seems intense but i swear its not that bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-09-30 17:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20451128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bylbit/pseuds/bylbit
Summary: The fallen will weep, a grave mistake,The roots of five souls, everything at stake,A sliver of darkness in the hearts of the sinners,Shall flourish through the fallen’s whispers.





	1. The Prophecy

* * *

** _The fallen will weep, a grave mistake_ **

** _The roots of five souls, everything at stake_ **

** _A sliver of darkness in the hearts of the sinners_ **

** _Shall flourish through the fallen’s whispers._ **

* * *


	2. Prelude

_Abandon all hope, you who enter here._

There were five of them, and him. Five lives intertwined by a poor excuse of a soul. He was nothing but a follower, a dot from the millions abhorring the unknown; a meager vindication of the creature created by Him to keep the balance. He was supposed to be nothing, just like how his creation was supposed to be. But after the 4th passing of Halley’s Comet and 19 years later, at the almost perfect number of 320 years upon his creation, a mistake ended his divine fate.

The fallen should have never fallen. The agnostic was supposed to be a pagan. The amorous just ought to be loved. The glutton should not have been tempted. The envious was not supposed to be taunted. The wrathful was never meant to exercise its wrath.

One mistake is what it takes for the fate of six to drastically change. A whole game of chess played by the wicked, to salvage his doom in exchange for theirs. They were the plain chess pieces; the knights protecting the king; the pawns guarding the queen.

They would never have thought to be serving the five circles, but here they are, suffering and eternally being punished because of one wicked fallen ready to risk it all.

A mere player who made them all his pawns.


	3. Side A. LIMBO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of the five souls.

The place he was living in is a dark, _dark _place.

Time was irrelevant. The days and nights bleeding as one. Months, years, centuries, no one will notice its passing. It was how it is in the first circle of hell.

There are trees, stark naked from dying leaves and drying trunks. Their ash gray coloring giving away their state. The soil there cracks with every step, crumbling parts released unto the windy surroundings, making it seem like it was a desert in the Sahara. The sun never rises, its absence a painful reminder that the world has already forsaken the sinners imprisoned there. It was a moon instead, that illuminates the first circle of hell. A blood-red moon shines brightly, eternally accompanying all the repenting souls.

Above all these, there was one great castle. A castle of immense wealth and luxury. It comprises of hundreds of rooms, all dripping comfort and amenity. The halls and passages scream elegance with its paintings and decorations and grandeur state. The castle’s colors were a major black, grey, and brown; colors that serve as the awakening of realization that this place was indeed, even with its best comfort and luxury, the punishment that all agnostics will face for eternity.

A castle as an inferior form of Heaven. A palpable symbol of their regret and remorse. An eternity of living in a place that would have been theirs, if only they believed. A punishment fit for the cynical. This place was called the Limbo, the eternal punishment for the agnostic.

It was now the home of Sanghyuk, an unwilling soul that never truly accepted the Christian faith.

He was not a believer, never did and never will. It was what afforded him this prison, along with a few words from a lad who he thought was a friend, trusted him and believed his lies. That was the very first of the many mistakes he made after meeting him, Hakyeon.

Living, Sanghyuk was but a simple man. He has a broad form, limbs and legs long, with skin a creamy white and a soft brown mop of hair. His eyes are the color of the sea, drowning anyone who dared to stare at it for too long. His clothes screamed ordinary, worn and discolored with use.

He was just two decades and a half years old when he met him. He was living alone, in a small rented flat in the middle of 18th century Paris. His parents abandoned him when he was just an infant, leaving him in the gates of the orphanage he called home for five years before moving out and finding his luck in that barren city.

All was well, he could say. He works at a small printing house, the salary so little but was miraculously enough for him. The young man worked day in and day out, hoping to rise to the ranks and live a comfortable life. But above all, he wanted to become a novelist, a writer that would be known even after centuries pass. He was not yet there, but he sure is trying.

Sanghyuk was a persevering writer. That day, he was walking towards his publisher when he suddenly tripped from a large piece of rock lying innocently on the concrete path. The incident caused the stack of papers with him to slip from his hands and land unto the wet ground.

It was so dumb of him, tripping with his own feet from a rock, “Goodness gracious, how I could be so trippy?” He murmured to himself as he hastened to gather all the scattered papers.

As he was busy with his task, he did not notice someone picking up other pieces of paper and helping him. It was only when he noticed he collected almost all the papers did he raise his head and saw a young man standing in front of him, wordlessly handing the papers he collected.

Sanghyuk was stunned. The lad was wearing that of a bourgeoisie man’s attire, an intricately designed coat and delicate accessories. He held his head high in confidence, yet a blooming smile was present in his youthful face. He was looking at him expectantly, extending his hand that was holding the stack of papers.

“Would you not like to accept this, young Sir?”

He blinked once, embarrassment dripping from his every move, “Oh. Forgive my behavior, Sir.” He reached for the papers, extremely glad that none of them were too ruined to grant a revision.

The man smiled. He was eyeing the papers in his hand, “_Divine Comedy? _And what would that mean, young Sir?” He inquired, the previous smile on his face now replaced by a sudden smirk full of mirth.

Sanghyuk froze, nervous with the level of judgment in his voice, “The Church, Sir.” His voice was level, thankfully hiding his imminent fear, “How the church and its official are lying to everyone else.”

“You’re not a Christian?” The lad asked.

“I was once. But not anymore. I learned to unlearn the lies taught by those tyrant friars.” Venom was visible in his voice, yet he could not suppress his emotions. He looked away, hands tightening around the papers by instinct, “I want to wake everyone up from their lies.”

The young man was now eyeing him, his eyes full of unreadable expression, “And what exactly are these lies, if I may ask?” It was like he was testing him, yet his tone was of friendly curiosity and wonder.

Sanghyuk sighed, “God, his existence. Angels, hell, demons. I don’t believe in any of those. Those are blasphemies. Nothing but products of an imaginative mind. Those friars are feeding the people lies and we simply let them. With this book, I want people to realize that.” He was breathing hard. The things he’s saying are all his doctrine, his beliefs, and he will fight for it.

“Perhaps. But we’ll never know until we die, yeah?” He was still eyeing him, but the smile he’s directing to him is sending him chills over his body.

“Indeed.” Was all he muttered, “Oh, forgive my manners again. I am Sanghyuk.” He bowed, showing his respect to the man.

The lad heartily laughs, “I have not introduced myself, either. I am Hakyeon, young Sir.”

Someone from afar was running towards them, seemingly in haste. “Oh. My attendant is here. I have to go.” He gracefully bowed, smiling at him for the last time before turning around and walking away.

Sanghyuk was dumbfounded. That was the first time a nobleman talked to him without belittling him. He was still trying to digest everything when he stole a final glance at the lad that intrigued him so much.

He was now about to ride a carriage, being assisted by his servant. He was one odd young man. He was trailing his eyes after him, clearly mesmerized when he suddenly stopped, turning his head around to meet his eyes.

The young male locked eyes with him and that’s when he noticed. Instead of the same friendly look before, it was danger in his eyes. The corners of his lips were lifted, displaying the peril that will come his way.

It was only for a moment, almost as if he just imagined those things. He was now inside the carriage, going his way. Sanghyuk simply decided to ignore that.

He wished he never did.

That encounter granted him a place in the Limbo. Hakyeon was the driving point of no return, for he was the start of a whirlwind of events that later brought him to where he is now.

Sanghyuk remembers all those so clearly. It was thoughtless of him to easily talk to a stranger screaming danger. But he doesn’t have a choice now, does he? It’s all too late, seeing as he is now bounded to this place called hell, for all eternity.


	4. Side B. LUST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this is what sinning feels like, he wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Taek.

This time, it was a vast open space, with mountains of monstrous rocks and spirals of winds.

Much like the Limbo, the second circle of hell is dark. Only the same blood-red moon from the first circle illuminates the space. Nothing gleams there, except for the moon that symbolizes the blind desires of the souls in it.

The mountains are sharp-peaked, hard and powerful over the sinners inhabiting this plane. No vegetation survives in the harsh space, being extinguished the moment even the slightest sign of life emerges.

There is a storm brewing. Strong winds swirling relentlessly in the dark sky, forming lumps of ash gray cumulonimbus clouds that blanket everything under it. Its winds circling the vast plane, crashing, bumping, hitting everything in their way, unforgiving.

All the sinners in this place--the amorous souls that let their appetites get the best of them¾were buffeted back and forth by the terrible winds of the violent storm. Every second of every minute of every day is spent bumping against the high mountains standing proudly there. This goes on for eternity, without stop.

It was their punishment: to be hauled around by the winds of a storm unto the rocks and solid ground, crushing their bones and their tendons and their souls, causing immense pain and suffering for all eternity.

The winds were the symbol of their resignation to lust. As they submit and indulge in their appetites, so as the winds that will eternalize lust’s power to render anyone needless and aimless.

It was the punishment fit for someone like Hongbin, and punishment it is, to be sent flying across the place, hitting rocks like a mere puppet, bones hurting everywhere. The world of comfort he once lived in, gone and replaced by this howling darkness of helpless discomfort.

Perhaps he deserved it.

An earl like him, with an impressive fortune under his name, is too proud. He knows that he has the power, the money, and the title to have everything he wants. He is someone easily blinded by his desires. Hongbin was the only son of a well-off family, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, everything he wanted given to him in a silver platter. It was a life that many envied, but to him, it was a curse and a cost from all the comfort he experiences.

Despite all that, he wants nothing more but love. He believes that even with all the power he has, one thing he can never have is the love of his life.

Hongbin was only 18 when he first met Ravi. He was a slave working under his family. He fell in love the first time he met him. But it was a painful unrequited love. Ravi never showed any interest in him. For him, he was simply the son of his master, nothing more and nothing less.

But what else is he if not a persistent earl that gets everything he wants?

Hongbin was willing to do everything for him, give him the world, and defy everything, if it means he’ll have him. He did everything, but it was never enough. He said that they were not meant to be together, they were worlds apart.

And that’s the curse, isn’t it?

An earl falling in love with a slave is frowned upon and judged by society. It just wasn’t fit. He was not given a chance to have the only thing that will make him contented.

But then he met someone who gave him an alternative. That someone also happens to be the very reason why he is now held captive in the second circle of hell, serving his verdict.

Hakyeon was a nobleman. He was the epitome of control and dominance. A man who is able to hold his own in the presence of others. Indeed, he was a fascinating character that deserves his undivided attention as they were conversing in a banquet thrown by the Head of the Alarie Manor.

“It is a pleasure to converse with a capable young man like you, Sir Hakyeon.” Hongbin charmingly quipped, amiably expressing his inclination.

“As I am, Sir.” The young man answers.

They talked about politics, theodicy, and more. Topics that are often considered by others tedious and uninteresting, but not to him. As they dwelled more about life, Hongbin happened to share his dilemma about his unrequited love with him, somehow trusting his soft yet firm way of talking.

He confessed about how he sometimes hates his title, and how it made Ravi turn him down, all because of a poor excuse of a title.

“If he doesn’t want you with your sweet ways, take him by force.” Proposed by the nobility. He was sipping wine from his glass, eyes darted straightly towards him. He didn’t offer him further elaboration, choosing instead to observe other people around them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you mean by taking him by force?” He questioned, mind working to try to understand what the young noble meant.

Hakyeon puts his glass away, his lips turning into a devious smirk. He slowly leaned towards him, aiming for his right ear. His breath tickled the skin of his exposed nape.

“If you can’t have him alive, _kill him and make him yours._” He whispered alluringly. Before the young earl can react, Hakyeon was standing up, walking away from him without any last words.

_Kill him, and make him yours._ Those words were the ones that sent him to hell.

The words were playing inside his mind. Murder was not the solution, he knew that. But what can a man do against his deepest desires?

He found himself following Ravi towards a dark alley deep into the night as he was heading to his lodging. He did not notice his presence, too preoccupied with the mud catching the edges of his cheap shoes.

When he noticed him, it was already too late. As Hongbin comes close to Ravi, he hastily grabbed him, avoiding all his attempts to escape and attack, while successfully strangling him to death. The young slave struggled for a few moments before he finally slumped as he catches his last breath.

He did it. Hongbin killed his beloved.

It took him some effort to drag the cold body of the beautiful man towards their estate, and to his room, but as he lays his lifeless body onto the awaiting bed, he can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. He wordlessly lies down beside him, hugging close the now hardening body of the man he loved too much.

“You’re now mine, my dearest. All mine.” He whispers into his unhearing ears, contentment visible in his voice before closing his eyes and finally surrendering to the call of sleep.

If this is what sinning feels like, he wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. It's been a while.


	5. Side C. GLUTTONY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He promised he'd never go hungry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Shikkie.

It was a rancid place, the third circle of hell.

Everything is swallowed by a vile of putrid slush of excretes from the foul icy rain blanketing the place for eternity. There were no plants, no sign of positivity around, only the filthy scenery that houses those that are gluttonous.

The sinners in this place are sprawled on the ground, mud, blood and defecate clinging to their rotten bodies as they weep in misery. The vile slush swallows everything, tainting everything that makes contact with it.

This situation reveals the truth behind their sins on land¾selfish desires and empty sensuality spent throughout their lifetime.

Gluttons fought monsters that were only their imagination: their appetites, craving and hunger. The feeling that it was never enough, nothing was ever enough. The desire for more is palpable even in the cold, freezing atmosphere of the third place called hell. The slush was never-ending, covering everything in its wake, showcasing the true nature of sensuality which is overindulgence of food, drink and other addiction.

It was the punishment for those who are ceaseless with their cravings, for those who are selfish.

Taekwoon was once a free lad, but certain circumstances brought him to the third circle of hell. A poorly disguised craving was all it took for him to banish his life in this eternal hell.

He lived a poor life, in a poor neighborhood, and with even poorer parents. He was the eldest of twelve children and was forced to give up his life in favor of his siblings’. It was a hard life, but one that he was thankful for. His family wasn’t starving, and his meager earnings from working as a barber were aiding them enough.

But then an epidemic spread like wildfire.

France was attacked by thousands of cases of smallpox. It shook the whole country with its large death toll that sums up to a few thousand in Paris only. Soon, food and other necessities became too pricey. It became impossible to catch up to the increase in expenses with his small earnings.

Taekwoon found his family being starved to death. He was slowly losing his mind, thinking of ways to be able to feed twelve mouths at the same time. He tried everything, looked for other jobs, asked his friends, everything. But the world is really cruel. No help came, and days turned to weeks as weeks turned to months. His family was surviving on little portions of bread and tap water that his salary can afford.

Then one day, while Taekwoon is working at the shop, a nobleman entered, asked for someone to give him a haircut. The task was easily given to him, because he, undoubtedly, is the best. The man was named Hakyeon. He had a warm, calming voice that ironically speaks of dominance. It gave way to his very blood, a nobility. Despite that, he was easy going and friendly and Taekwoon found himself comfortably conversing with him as he does his work.

Hakyeon was a sight to look at. His eyes were sharp, almost like that of a cat, yet his gaze begged to differ, exuding warmth and comfort as Taekwoon engages him. However, it was his smile that was Taekwoon’s most favorite of him. The nobility’s smile was alluring in its own right, charming and confident, friendly even, yet his smile also seemed to be measuring, calculating. It was like he knows something you don’t. The fact is both enticing and unnerving.

Their conversation delved into the epidemic hitting their country like an asteroid. The young noble voiced his concerns about commoners who are suffering greatly because of it. With the conversation treading into the territory of Taekwoon’s latest concern for the past few months, the barber shared the hardships that his family has been facing ever since the epidemic arose.

“It’s been weeks since we last had a proper meal,” Taekwoon muttered, sadness and guilt visible in his voice. “I just wish I am paid better than the scanty income I have. I can barely afford a whole piece of baguette.”

“Oh, poor you. You must be starving.” The noble sympathetically told him.

“Very much, young Sir. But I cannot help the situation. All I can do is work harder.” It was the truth. With the economy these days, Taekwoon doubts he’ll be able to find a better job.

“I admire your perseverance. Someone your age should be enjoying the fun things in life, not bargaining with the cruelties of it.” Hakyeon stated, now looking at the young lad, “But you know what, I heard a rumor,” he smirked, that intriguing smirk of his, “_Human meat tastes delicious at this time of the year.”_

He thought he heard him wrong.

“Pa-pardon? I think I’ve heard you wrong, young Sir.” He stuttered.

The nobility was simply regarding his gaze on him, not wavering even for a second. “Think about it.” And just that, the nobleman walked away from the commoner’s life as easily as he entered it.

As he was heading home that day, the words echoed inside him. He was lost in thought when he was suddenly brought to reality by a sorrowful scream. Realizing that it came from their house just a few walks away, he rushed home with a clouded mind, his body running cold when he saw the mess in their living room.

Five of his siblings were on the floor, all a crying mess as they surrounded the lying figure of their eighth brother.

“Wha-what happened here? Why is Taejin lying on the floor?” He was looking for answers, his greatest fears eating him up.

“He’s dead.” The third to the twelve siblings mumbled, pain and sorrow evident in his voice.

“How can that happen? He-he was fine when I left earlier? What happened?” Tears were now streaming down Taekwoon’s face.

He lost a brother, just like that.

Life was really cruel. It’s unforgiving. He failed his siblings. What kind of eldest is he if he can’t even figure out that something is wrong with one of his siblings?

He wallowed in guilt and sadness as he looked at his siblings, all hungry and starved, crying the little water they have in their systems.

The noble’s words resounded through him again. _Human meat._

A body that will feed his siblings for at least a week. It was lying on their living room floor, lifeless and seemingly waiting to be slaughtered.

What is a little sacrifice of his beloved brother?

And so he did it. Almost like he lost his mind, he haphazardly dragged the unmoving body of his beloved brother towards the kitchen, setting it atop the kitchen island, grabbed the butcher’s knife and struck his stomach.

He ferociously butchered his dead brother’s body. Starting from the stomach, slicing through the delicate flesh like it’s some kind of jelly. Blood spluttered around him, but he didn’t care. His main goal was to feed his siblings. When the cut on the stomach was wide enough, he reached for his insides: the intestines, liver, stomach. Taekwoon inhaled deeply, savoring the raw, metallic smell of the blood covering his hands. The organs were put in a bowl, as the young lad started chopping flesh after flesh, cutting it into reasonable bite sizes.

When he finished with the body’s middle part, he struck the area between its left shoulder and arm, effectively separating the left arm from the body. He cut it into the same bite-sized pieces. He did the same with its right arm, as well as both legs. All was left was the head.

He paused, taking time in admiring the bloody mess that decorated his brother’s face. He looks so peaceful, so glad that he was done suffering, and at the same time helping his siblings not starve to death.

The tears were back, as he caresses his face with his bloody hands, sobbing silently, “I’m so sorry, my angel. I was not able to protect you.” He repentantly placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, the very last one, before he struck his head in the middle to split it into two. Bits of his brain scattered on the floor, and unto Taekwoon.

As he finished his handicraft, he eyes the seven large ceramics now full of ready to cook meat. It will feed them for at least two weeks. It’ll have to do for now.

Taekwoon heaved a deep breath, gulping the air full of the blood’s metallic tang. His hand thoughtlessly reached for a chunk of meat, putting it in his starving mouth.

As the raw flesh met with the buds of his tongue, he savored the taste of the blood, its tender texture, before finally biting down and chewing like a mad man. He chewed, swallowed, and soon, he was addicted.

He will never be starved anymore. He had ten more to butcher in the following months. After all, his siblings taste good.


	6. Side D. ENVY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaehwan was indeed loyal, but he is more envious than loyal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very belated happy birthday, Jyani dearest.

There were huge, enormous rocks.

The fourth circle of hell was home to the sinners that were too selfish for their own good. Those greedy ingrates that thought of nothing but themselves.

Much like the other circles of hell, the place for the greedy was also dark, with nothing else other than repenting sinners and enormous rocks in a sloped plane.

Sinners were pushing the rocks with their chest, so caught up in their own things they never notice others. They were desperate, the envy they had in their hearts from their lifetime evident with every heave and push.

The life they lived in the mortal realm was so far away from now. Instead of experiencing the same comfort they had once living, in the fourth circle of hell, there was nothing but pain, hardship and eagerness.

This was the destined punishment for the wicked, the greedy and the envious. The people who only wanted for more, more, and more, people who were never contented and always, _always_, hoard their wants.

It was a punishment that is granted to someone who lived life like Jaehwan.

Jaehwan was, admittedly, the greediest and most envious of them all.

His life revolved around himself. For someone who is born in the middle of the social system, he had enough time to pamper himself with things he deemed he wanted. Although not much, it was enough for him, _for the meantime_.

To support his somewhat expensive lifestyle of buying whatever he wanted that he can afford, he worked for one of Paris’ wealthiest nobleman. Said nobleman has lost his parents to an accident only half a decade ago, which left all their fortune in his hands. And for five years now, he has been living his life with only Jaehwan as a semblance of family. Jaehwan is his second-in-command. His opinions and decisions were considered when making very important deals. He was fairly respected by others in his circle. Indeed, for Jaehwan was smart, cunning and strategic. It would not be a stretch to say that he was one of reasons why his master’s businesses were doing well in the market.

Jaehwan paired his intelligence with loyalty. He was the most loyal to his master. That loyalty was returned to him through his master’s utmost trust in Jaehwan. He lets him know about everything in his name, lands, properties, businesses, everything. Jaehwan knew everything that involves his master.

It would have been innocuous to say that life was well for Jaehwan, but these facts were mere façades of what truly lies beneath Jaehwan’s heart. Jaehwan was indeed loyal, but he is more envious than loyal. Jaehwan envied everything that his master has: his wealth, his status in the society, everything about him.

But what can Jaehwan do? He was no nobility. He may have a power when it comes to the workers under his master’s care, but it all ends there. He cannot conceal that fact that despite his master’s trust, he was still a lowly servant, merely awaiting treats from his master. He can only watch in envy as his master soaks in all that Jaehwan has worked hard for. The business’ success was because of him, indeed, but the business is still his master’s. Jaehwan watches as his master wastes away his wealth by throwing away balls and banquets, buying extremely unnecessary things just because he can, gambling and drinking.

It continued for a long time that Jaehwan almost got used to it, _almost_. As time passes, Jaehwan grew tired of seeing his master waste away such a beautiful, privileged life with just gambling and drinking.

How can someone as lucky as his master forsake such God-given gifts?

It never made sense to Jaehwan. He is used to working hard to get whatever he wants, and somehow, that made him extremely aware of the importance of everything he has. But his master was not like him. Jaehwan almost wants to shake his master to wake him up, make him realize that he should feel thankful for everything he has. He lived in frustration as he watched on the sidelines as his master slowly wastes his luck away.

Until one day, on one of the balls thrown by his master, as Jaehwan was seeing to it that everything was perfect and no guest is in discomfort, he encountered a man that might just exceed the beauty of every other being in the world.

Jaehwan was silently observing his master as he haughtily entertains his guests. His master was wearing such an attire that speaks of its worth and its wearer’s status. Hosting was something Jaehwan has always wanted to do, he enjoys attention and he basks in it when given. Looking at his master, envy was noticeably dripping from his eyes, poorly concealed with diligence and loyalty. His thoughts wander to a world where he was the one standing in the ballroom’s center, wearing such an impressive suit, wine glass in hand as he catches the attention of everyone in the room. He was busy nursing his envy and fantasy when a lad approached him.

The lad introduced himself as Hakyeon, a nobility from England staying over France for a diplomatic visit. He said he was new and was just observing the culture of French people. Despite the air of authority and dominance exuding from him, he has a way with his words and it isn’t long before he got Jaehwan engaged in a very interesting talk regarding French exports to England. The nobility seemed to love conversing as they jump from topic to topic, all of which very intellectual however random.

It was when his master called at everyone’s attention that a question from Hakyeon struck him.

“You envy him, don’t you?” The question almost didn’t sound like a question with how it lacks the usual curiosity injected in a question. It made Jaehwan’s blood run dry.

“N-no. How can I envy my master? I am nothing but a lowly servant at his beck and call.” His answer gives away the truth of his words. “Besides, it is highly unacceptable for someone like me to even regard myself as somewhat equals to such nobility as him to justify my envy.” His voice was now laced with frustrated sadness.

“Why do you even think of yourself as so lowly like that?” The question caught his attention. He chanced a glance towards the nobility as he was speaking to him, “You are more than what you think you are, Jaehwan.” Hakyeon smiled, patting the young lad’s arm in console.

“You see, you just need to put your smart brain to work and a little imagination,” The nobility gestured towards his master, “You want to live his life, don’t you?”

Jaehwan nodded, albeit hesitantly. But he badly wants it, there’s no denying that.

“You can have it.” The nobility quipped, “Take it from him, by hook or by crook.” Hakyeon was now smirking, a hint of a demonic impression noticeable within his shining dark orbs. The nobleman spared him one last glance, before sliding in his kind smile once more, winking and rounding the corner.

It was hours later when most of the guests already went home that his master called for Jaehwan.

“Come now, Jaehwan. I’m dead tired. Have someone prepare a bath for me.” Jaehwan bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Oh, and bring me drink.” His master exhaustedly command.

_Of course, he will still be asking for a drink even after a banquet like that_, Jaehwan bitterly thought.

“Right away, master.” Jaehwan immediately sought for a servant and delivered the orders. He efficiently got a drink and started the trudge towards his master’s room.

Upon arrival, he gently knocked on the hard wood of the door before gently opening it. He was welcomed with nothing but the soft sound of water scalding through his master who was surely in the en suite. Jaehwan lightly placed the bottle of alcoholic drink on the coffee table right beside the window. He was simply arranging the sheets spread across the bed when the nobleman’s words from earlier struck through him.

_Take it from him._

He eyed they whole of the room. The room was huge, much vaster than Jaehwan’s living room. It screams wealth, status and dark comfort. It was perhaps the very definition of luxury. His thoughts came back to the idea of him being the one owning the room, of his master being gone, putting him in charge. But all that is simply a mere daydream, he reasoned to himself. He shook his head in an attempt to straighten his thoughts.

_By hook or by crook._

_But maybe, if his master is gone, he will finally have the chance to straighten the twisted life that consisted of his master’s days_, Jaehwan mused as he finished setting the bed. Deeming his handicraft excellent, he silently crosses the room towards the door.

_It would really be good if master is gone._ The thought has stayed with Jaehwan for days, even with his master in front of him. The days blurred into weeks when suddenly Jaehwan snapped.

Jaehwan was in his master’s study, papers in hand as he patiently reports about the current state of the businesses. He was so diligent in explaining, but his master simply looked bored. Not an ounce of attention was thrown towards Jaehwan.

“Jaehwan, even if you explain that to me, I would still not understand. It is enough to know that I’m still getting rich. Now get lost and continue managing the businesses.” His master mused after some time.

Jaehwan gaped for a moment, but he pursed his lips in a thin line and nodded. His master’s ignorance was wearing him thin. He will more than happy to take over all the businesses, but it’s his master’s job to meet investors and all the other business formalities, but it seems like his master can’t also understand that fact. Jaehwan was getting more infuriated by the minute.

_You want his luxury. You can have it; you know you can._ It was as if a voice was lulling him to a do something.

“You can leave now.” His master lazily commanded. He was now standing up, trudging towards the coffee table that was holding bottles of alcoholic drink. His back was facing Jaehwan as he nonchalantly hums.

Jaehwan narrowed his eyes in aggravation, he can’t do anything but follow his master’s orders. He stood up, but Hakyeon’s words came back to him. He can have everything that was his master’s. He just needs to use his imagination. Jaehwan let his thoughts wonder when his eyes landed to the priced decorative dagger of his master, its steel blade glinting unto the dimly-lit room as it catches the sunlight streaming through the study’s windows.

_By hook or by crook._

It took Jaehwan five strides to reach it. The young lad reached for it, feeling the hardness and coldness of its metal hilt against the palm of his left hand. He tightened his hold of it, gasping it as he quietly trudges back to where his master is.

It was more of a feeling than an actual sound that alerted his master of Jaehwan’s presence behind him.

“What is it, Jaehwan? Why are you still here?” His master questioned, back still faced towards him.

He did not answer, attention still focused solely on the task at hand: kill his master and take away what he has been wanting for so long. He inched forward as his master turns to face him. His master’s eyes widened upon seeing Jaehwan raising his arm with a dagger in hand.

His master was about to scream, but it was all too late. The dagger was now buried in his heart, bypassing through the suit his master was wearing, its hilt touching the soft fabric of it. Blood splutters out of his mouth as he looks at Jaehwan horrifyingly.

“How c-can you do t-this to m-me?” Blood spilled out of him as he attempted to move his lips.

Jaehwan watched as his master slumped to the floor. He watched as his master tried hard to breath, but with very intake, more blood comes out of him. The carpet and floor below him were swiftly drowning in blood. He stares blankly at his master’s lifeless eyes.

“I’m just taking what you are wasting, Master.” The words left his lips as he walks away from the dead body. He turns to look around the room, realization slowly coming to him that all these shall be his soon. He walks the small distance from the window towards his master’s office chair. He elegantly sat down, basking on the feeling of finally being seated at the throne that was now his.

Jaehwan’s lips curved upwards, mirth and contentment oozing through his smile so strongly.

_It’s all mine now. I’m the master now._

He’ll deal with the body later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hongbinnie baby, please come back I miss you so much.


	7. Side E. WRATH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Beat fire with hellfire," they said. Wonshik did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 'I miss VIXX so much' Day!

The fifth circle of hell is situated in a river, the River Styx.

It is a river of wonder and sorrow and pain and every little thing in between. Its water is as dark as the sky blanketing it, foul smelled and have gooey materials aimlessly floating on it. It is like a shed of poison for those who are not meant to be there. Drop a hand in the water, and watch it melting like steel. Its banks seemed far away, for the thousands of millions of bodies of souls that are submerged into the deathly river. These souls are doomed to drown in their own wrath.

Those sinners that are actively nursing their anger are floating on the surface, fighting whoever catches their attention, engaging in a fierce battle of pride and prejudice. They never stop, their limbs(though sore(managed to mangle itself against their opponent. That is the life of those actively hating. Those sinners that are letting their anger swallow them, on the other hand, drowned in the river, their bodies settling at the very bottom of the giant marsh of black goo; eating away their conscience and sanity as their wrath slowly takes hold of their thinking.

It is a seamless punishment for those that let their emotions get the best of them: an eternal reminder that once in their mortal life, they let their anger swallow and drown them to insanity, exactly like how they are now being eaten by the black waters of the merciless river.

It has been years ever since Wonshik started serving his repentance. It’s been so long, yet never did he find it any harder suffering in hell with souls that are equally sinful as himself. Perhaps, he did deserve to be punished like this. After all, the things he did when he was still living are far from being holy.

Wonshik, although not as well-off as those of the nobilities, came from a loving family. His parents adored him and did their best to support him. His younger sister was very loving and supportive. He couldn’t have asked for more, it was all the happiness and contentment he’s been dreaming for all his life.

Two decades and a half later, while he was at the Academy, busy learning all the magnificent things the school has to offer, his family was reported to be murdered by a well-known gang of bandits, stealing and robbing his family of what little wealth they had.

The news was so sudden, it left Wonshik struck dead. His family, his most treasured possession, gone in a blink of an eye at the hands of people who are never worthy to even lay a single finger on their skin.

As he was heading home, in a carriage in the middle of the woods, his rage was eating him, clawing at his inside and begging to be unleashed. The reality still wasn’t sinking in. How could his loving mother be murdered brutally like that? How could his protective father lose his life over unworthy thieves? How could his beautiful sister suffer impurity in those bandits’ dirty hands? Everything was very unfair and all that matters to him as he arrived at their humble estate is to avenge the deaths of his family.

Now an orphan with a meager wealth in his hands, Wonshik lost himself.

He stopped going to the Academy, opting to stay inside his bedroom and wallow in his misery as he waited for the authorities to sort the whole case out. But weeks, months passed, no news came to him. It was impossible, they said. There was no evidence, they said. We couldn’t arrest them, they said. Those pathetic detectives were useless in their own right and Wonshik couldn’t just sit still. He wants justice for his family, and if the law would not give it to him, he’ll be the one to collect it himself.

One day, a young lad visited his estate, claiming that he was the far nephew of the queen, and was asking to talk to him. Reluctantly, he welcomes the man with the little enthusiasm he had. He was a very commanding man, that one. His face betrays his youthful age, and the way he carries himself screams control. He was the most authoritative man he ever met. The name’s Hakyeon, he introduced as he gracefully sat in his offered seat.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, my Lord?” He asked as politely as he could muster. He honestly doesn’t care about any more hospitality but his parents taught him better.

“I’ve heard of the news. As well as the authorities’ failure to give you the justice you are seeking.” He trod carefully. The man was regarding him with a look that implies he knows what he is talking about. That he is not wrong.

“Indeed. I am deeply disappointed with the turn of events. I did not know that the authorities are that useless.” Wonshik disdainfully admitted. His rage was once again boiling inside him.

“I am aware. I also know of your desire to seek justice yourself.” The lad was now eyeing him dangerously. “I know of a way to help you with that. Do you want my help?” He tilted his head, smiling deviously.

“And what exactly is this help you’re pertaining to, if I may ask?”

“A little advice to give you a direction as to what you shall do.” He stated, now folding his arms in front of his chest, raising his chin in confidence.

“Then I shall hear it. What harm can it do?” Wonshik decided. Whatever this noble wants he’ll give if it means he’ll leave his estate immediately.

“The bandits are headed by Robert-Francois Damiens. The last I’ve heard, they are residing in an abandoned warehouse a few blocks near the Bastille Prison. There are three of them.” Hakyeon informed him, lips pursing in a tight line.

“And what would I do with that information?” He incredulously asked.

“Fire. Beat fire with hellfire.” The words sent Wonshik stunned. The lad was now standing up, preparing to leave, “I hope you get the justice you are seeking. I pray for your soul.” Those were his last words before he ultimately left the estate, never turning his back once.

Fire. _Arson_.

As Wonshik became blinded by his anger once more, he moved to gather the equipment he’d need to burn down sinful criminals. He decided to take the lad’s advice quite literally. Fire against hellfire.

He knows where the Bastille Prison is, having gone there once when his Academy was forcing them to do volunteer work on the streets near the prison. At dusk when he deemed himself ready, he asked for a carriage to take him to the alleyway that will directly take him to the devil’s lair.

As he was nearing the place, he could hear filtered voices of shouts floating in the air. The voices sounded hideous, truly a criminal’s. He surveyed the surroundings, noting that there was no one guarding the outside of the premises. The door was unlatched, open slightly like it was waiting for Wonshik to come and murdered its inhabitants.

He smirked, losing control of his action as his rage drove him to rush towards the door, entering the place and hitting the first person he sees with the bat he was holding. The man cried in pain, collapsing almost immediately as he loses his consciousness. The second man perhaps heard the commotion, for seconds later, a rather bulky middle-aged man was advancing towards him. He has an ax with him that he swung towards Wonshik’s direction but was once again struck with the bat at the back of his head.

The bulky man dropped to the floor, losing his grip with the ax that surprisingly plummeted towards the first man’s unsuspecting left arm, ultimately cutting it in half. Wonshik snorted at the scene. Such unfortunate, pitiful men. The third man, Robert-Francois Damiens, arrived moments later in rage, witnessing how his subordinates were beaten unconscious.

“You spawn of Satan! What did you do?!” The man moved towards him, attacking him. But he was unsuccessful, for he was too drunk for his own good he was not able to land a punch on Wonshik. He collapsed even before he reached the young man.

Eyeing the lump bodies by his feet, Wonshik started to work. He dragged them towards the center of the abandoned warehouse, tying each of them to the beams supporting the warehouse as they limply stuttered to slumber. He tied their hands and feet, making sure the ropes were tight enough. The forlorn young man spread kerosene and oil on the unmoving bodies, drenching them with the foul-smelling liquid. He waited until they wake up, spending the time humming to himself the favorite lullabies his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

An hour passed until the one in the middle, Robert Damiens started to move. He was out of it, not yet realizing that he was helplessly tied to a wooden post. He opened his eyes, scanned the room until his sight spotted Wonshik lazily seated on the floor. The man’s eyes widen in recognition before he struggled to move himself screaming for the others to wake up, only failing miserably with how tight the ropes were tied.

“There’s no use, you know.” Wonshik coldly stated.

“How dare you, child! You don’t know what you are doing!” Enraged, the man shouted, screaming profanities towards Wonshik.

“Oh, good Sir. I surely know what I am doing,” he stood up, brushing the invisible dust on his breeches, “You see, I am simply avenging the death of my family. I hope you don’t mind.” He smirked, grabbing hold of the lighted torch behind him.

“You should have never killed my family.” He gritted his teeth, directing the torch towards the soaked man, his clothes immediately caught on fire.

The man’s scream woke up his companions from their deep slumber. Just like the first man, they screamed, struggled and begged to be freed, seeing how Robert’s body was slowly being burned, but Wonshik was having none of it.

“It’s a pity, isn’t it? You chose the wrong estate that day. You should have never played with fire, good Sirs.” The young man sneered as he lit fire to the two others beside the now screaming Robert.

“No one will hear you, you know. Who would bother saving the souls of poor, filthy criminals anyways?” Wonshik laughed, enjoying the cries of pain the three men were making. 

Wonshik watched it in wonder. He stares as their flesh was slowly eaten by the fire, turning black before being entirely swallowed by the minute. Soon, half of their bodies were on fire, their shrieks of agony serving as music to Wonshik’s ears.

The fire slowly ate the bodies of the three. Wonshik can see their eyes clearly, the pain, the regret and all the other emotions present in those. But it is too late now, is it?

It was the most majestic thing Wonshik has ever seen as he watched the bodies withering in the presence of fire, its flesh submitting to the call of fire, the blood oozing out as it escapes the cruelty of the fire. The three men were still alive, helplessly trying to free themselves from the unforgiving fire that is currently burning their sinful bodies.

No one will escape. No help will come. After all, who would want to save sinful, forsaken criminals that are only a pest to society?

As he watched their bodies cower in destruction, Wonshik couldn’t help but wonder if this scene was his preview of what hell would be once he finally suffers there for all the sins he’s committed.

_And now, as he helplessly flaps his arms to avoid being drowned for the thousandth time, he realizes that even without fire, hell would still be the most painful plane he’d ever managed to come across with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update because I still miss Hongbinnie so much.


	8. Side F. THE FALLEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VIXX? Yes!

Golden tears flowed down the angel’s delicate face as he kneels in front of the archangel Michael, his golden sword drawn towards the base of his wings adjoining it to his blades.

“Angel, you have committed a grave sin forbidden for us angels. You have fallen in love with a mortal that is way beyond your limits as an angel and as a servant of God. It is a very serious offense creatures like us would do, and even if it pains me to do this--you know you are the greatest of your generation Hakyeon, you wasted that--I hereby sentence you to be banished from the great Heavens, never to be allowed again to enter the gates of this sacred place. In exchange of your wings and immortality, you will live the life that of the same as the humans, acquiring age, illness and death. This I bestow upon you as the Archangel Michael.”

The words numbed Hakyeon’s senses. His whole life was being robbed from him, because of the simple mistake of falling in love with a human. It was cruel, but as the last droplets of golden tears flushed out of him, he remorsefully accepted his fate.

“But there is something that the Father granted you.” The archangel paused, waiting for Hakyeon’s tearstained face to look up at him, “As one of his greatest treasures, a condition was proposed for your situation.” The weeping angel raised his head in confusion.

“If you manage to condemn five sinful souls to the five circles of hell in exchange of your salvation before the fifth passing of Halley’s Comet, you will once again be granted the access to Heaven. Your previous rank will be redeemed, you will be reinstated as the Head Angel of War, and your wings and immortality will be given back to you.” The kneeling angel was now weeping relentlessly, almost not believing the words that the archangel just uttered.

“But only if you manage to achieve the condition.” The words are firm, unaccepting defiance.

Hakyeon slowly raised to his feet, knees as soft as jelly, but he stood confidently and looked straight to the archangel’s metallic grey eyes, “I will condemn five souls to hell and I will manage to redeem my rightful place in Heaven.”

It was the promise he uttered as he descended towards the filthy realm of the mortals. It was now time to unleash the sleeping wickedness in him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else misses Binnie so much?


	9. Postlude

He was laughing.

As he walks towards the golden gates of Heaven, the fallen angel couldn’t help but smirk. He succeeded in redeeming himself. His wings are now back, fluffy white and pristine as it was before he was banished.

He entered the gates, relishing the sensation of being back again in his rightful place. The Head angel replays all the trouble he went through as he worked to gain back His Divine trust

Hakyeon had them all wrapped around his fingers, all five of them. One tip of the stick with strings and the puppet will follow. It was so easy, it’s almost unbelievable. He rarely feels pity, somehow. But it was destined to happen. It was the will of Heaven, after all.

The agnostic was condemned. The amorous received its doom. The glutton paid for its sins. The envious suffered for eternity. The wrathful repented his mistakes. And the fallen… did not fall.

He laughs again, now a humorless one as he painstakingly remember how easy it was to trick those that are too desperate for their own good.

“You see, those with the greatest desires are always, _always_ willing to risk everything in their wake, no matter how uncertain or immoral things are. Indeed, they’re free to do anything, everything they want. Too bad, they’re not free from the consequences either.”

Such a shame, he was too wicked for an angel.


	10. The Prophecy

* * *

** _The fallen will weep, a grave mistake_ **

** _The roots of five souls, everything at stake_ **

** _A sliver of darkness in the hearts of the sinners_ **

** _Shall flourish through the fallen’s whispers._ **

** _A sin, never mend to be committed_ **

** _Atoned only by means of a great price_ **

** _Should the fallen fail and be defeated_ **

** _The Divine's last memoire would be that of the angel's cries._ **

* * *

** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey its finally done, yeeey! I hope you enjoyed reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I miss VIXX.


End file.
